


Oblivion

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Vampires in Berlin (aka Ramm-pires in Berlin) [8]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5408918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul meets the Hungry Ghost (companion piece to The Hungry Ghost)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> As it says in the summary, this serves as a companion piece to 'The Hungry Ghost', and should hopefully reveal Paul's perspective on his time, brief though it was, with The Hungry Ghost himself. I think you need to read the main story itself for this to make sense. Title and accompanying lyrics taken from the song ['Oblivion'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9aX3gwPhQo) by British rock band, Terrorvision. (go check this song, and band, out if you don't know them. I've loved them for years, since my time at college, and always feel as though they don't get the attention they deserve!)

_And do you feel your life is threatened by fabricated stories,_  
_Dreamt up by the sons of campers that you killed back in the forties,_  
_I could see that all the possibilities for conflict,_  
_Could just back up your decision to subject them all to oblivion._  
**Oblivion - Terrorvision.**

The hum of blood still sang through Paul's veins and the taste of it was heavy on his tongue; he licked his lips, and the tip of his tongue played against the sharp ends of his fangs momentarily as he savoured the iron-rich taste of the blood still lingering in his mouth. Warm breezes played across Paul's skin and his mind returned to the home he shared with Richard; once again, his thoughts played out over the matching coffins that had taken up joking pride of place in the bedroom he shared with Richard. He wondered then how long the coffins would remain in their room, before they finally were relegated to the spare room, and their normal bed interred back where it belonged. Knowing Richard as well as he did, Paul was wagering that it would take his lover at least two weeks before he got over the initial novelty of sleeping in coffins. Paul laughed quietly and affectionately to himself. 

He sighed and returned his attentions back to Richard nearby; his lover still was feeding, mouth suckling at his victim's neck, fangs buried deep into mesmerised flesh. Richard's eyes were closed, soft moans of enjoyment leaking past the seam of lips against skin, hands gripping his victim tightly. Paul sighed; he thought that his lover looked particularly beautiful whilst in the throes of feeding. There was something so powerful, so ethereally magical about it all, so intimate and almost sexual that Paul found himself growing a little hard at the sight of it. He found impatience creeping through his veins at that, coupled with the very strong and undeniable urge to take Richard to bed, to make love to him hard and fast and dirty beneath sweat soaked sheets. 

He shifted, his movements as uncomfortable and as impatient as his mood; suddenly his ears pricked, and his body stiffened as the sudden sense of being observed stole over him. Although Paul wasn't entirely sure why he thought someone else was nearby, as he hadn't heard a thing, he still was aware of another's presence, pressing and evil and watchful against his skin. Before Paul could fully turn around, he was grabbed from behind, strong arms trapping his own to his sides and a pair of strong hands clamping across his face to prevent him from rousing the alarm and alerting Richard to his predicament. He struggled, legs kicking and arms straining against his bonds, yet despite his best efforts, he found that he could not fully break free; whoever had grabbed him was possessed of a strength that fully matched his own. Whenever he threatened to break free, Paul found that whoever was behind him managed to grapple a hold on him again and he was trapped once more.

He tried to bite down but even his fangs were trapped behind the shield of his lips, and he ended up biting himself instead of his assailant. Paul was dragged backwards, still struggling mightily, and Richard grew further out of reach, oblivious to everything but the woman he held in his arms. Paul's last thought was of his lover, as Richard slid out of view; his mind held onto the fact that Paul was not there to act as Richard's conscience, that he could not stop the other vampire from going too far and draining the life completely out of his victim. He had to hope, and to trust, that Richard knew better now and knew just when to stop without Paul having to tell him.

He felt helplessness crash through him, then and he felt all too human and ineffectual against an assailant he still had yet to see. He dug his heels in and he felt his boots dragging through the mud; that action slowed his assailants steps down somewhat, but then Paul's heels hit concrete and the tenuous purchase against June-dry mud was lost. He saw the night sky flash overhead, visible through the gaps in the trees and he could smell the scents of the rose garden nearby; he also then caught a whiff of the assailant. The person who held onto him smelt dead, and old blood, old age as of many years lived and almost reptilian coldness. Paul then guessed that his assailant was the vampire that had killed three people that week alone, that had been dubbed the Hungry Ghost by the news reporters. 

Paul struggled, yet they had come to the edge of a lake, and he could smell the dank wetness of it; he was roughly turned around, and Paul caught a look of his assailant for the first time. The vampire, otherwise known as the Hungry Ghost, had been young when he'd been turned, barely out of his teens if his baby-faced prettiness was anything to go by; his hair was blond, eyes large and blue, and Paul had a sudden flash back to how Richard had once looked in his youth. Despite the facial resemblances, however, to Paul's vampiric lover, the build was wrong. The vampire's body was slighter than Richard's, not quite so broad through the shoulders, and his stature was shorter, shorter even than Paul's. 

"What the fuck do you want from me, huh?" Paul asked, even as the vampire pushed against his shoulders, shepherding him closer towards the edge of the lake.

The vampire's mouth opened and closed and one hand lifted away from Paul's body to tap at his mouth; it seemed almost as though the vampire was trying to tell Paul that he was mute, wordless. 

"Jesus," Paul said, as his heels splashed against the edge of the water. "I know it won't do me any good to ask you this, but why have you taken me? You do realize my lover will be along in a moment, don't you? He'll come for you. Even if you manage to kill me, you'll suffer by his hands." 

The vampire smiled, a horrible grin that was quite unlike the beautiful, unguarded grins that Richard was capable of giving. Paul shuddered in disgust; whilst the vampire undoubtedly had a pretty face, there was nothing but ugliness and empty oblivion inside of him. 

"Are you gonna kill me? Like you killed those humans?" Paul asked, next. 

The vampire nodded, once, twice, before his head stilled and he stared at Paul mutely with guileless deceptive eyes fixed upon Paul's face.

"I'm not scared of you," Paul said, and that admission seemed to anger the vampire further.

He surged forward, gripped Paul by the shoulders and bodily hefted him into the water; Paul was glad, whenever his head broke the surface of the water, again, again, again, that he didn't need to breathe because he'd surely be dead already if he needed air. He wondered then what the point was of dunking him beneath the water unless it was to frighten him, to make him terrified before the end finally came.  
He grappled blindly with the vampire's lapels. tried to drag him into the water with him to terrorise him as much as the other was attempting to terrorise Paul in turn. Paul yelled for Richard whenever his face broke the surface of the water, literally screamed for his lover to come to his aid and to help him. It seemed an age before Paul finally saw the familiar face of Richard appearing above him, rage filling his lover's face before Richard's screams filtered through the air, and curses and threats fell upon Paul's assailant's head. 

Paul freed himself from the Hungry Ghost's grasp almost as soon as they'd all piled upon the bank of the lake, before he scurried away to find a weapon whilst Richard fought and wrestled with the one who'd dared to take him. Paul couldn't help but feel amused pride over his lover's efforts; he'd never once seen Richard so enraged before. It seemed as though the mere act of having Paul forcibly taken from him had forced Richard into almost Incredible Hulk like proportions of rage. 

As soon as Paul saw the chance to stake the Hungry Ghost, he took it, plunging the sharp-edged branch he'd dragged from the trees nearby into the mute vampire's chest; he watched as the smaller vampire exploded into dusty fragments, dark and oddly beautiful in its complete destruction. He found himself fascinated by the other's death, despite the fact that he also was repelled by it, and the knowledge that both he, and Richard too, could end in the same plight if they weren't careful. He turned his attentions back to Richard again, as the other vampire spoke. 

"That is fucking disgusting, just so you know," Richard said as he stared down at his own clothing in disgusted distaste. "I've got dead vampire on me, Paul."


End file.
